Definitely indefinite

Still frozen in time
this bookmark postcard tattooed on my mind
Slivers of thought I'll always see
So much for fleeting imprint
that never gets away from me

I still read it very clearly

Who will remember
or really know
the man, squared by disbelievers
preaching redemption with show

Does fire always burn
and where is truth in gloomy clarity
Now we know that given time we learn
that contradiction is polarity

How have we been
since that defining connection
where over and ahead observing eyes met
Thoughts recorded,
instantly react
All very clearly
heading in an altered direction

Looking back that must've been
when we passed the point of no return
which marked the settling symbiosis
of dual counteraction

and probably made this into the analogy
of our chosen affection


.

Impressions

Probably to escape reason;
multitude of meaning;
perhaps even meaningful complications

We simplify,
pick and paste
Familiar pieces
that suit our present taste

And wear them
on that cloak we dare not name
where for centuries we could reside,
.. and recite
but suddenly there's no fit
it's just another word for hide
but not a habit forever

So I changed, you say
there have always been crowds,
why now complain
The house felt bolted
without commit
my adaptation is just decay

So here I am,
sorry I could never see
that all's my fault,
indeed, in rhyme, entirely
for letting you assume
I gave up the fight
with words you never questioned
(but now ...)
or who labelled whom
with every solemn plight

but these are just impressions


.

Regarding partiality

dare the one that hopes
there, there,

watch this going through the motions
of uncertain insecurity;
involuntary wondering,
hither and forth

fallen from stability
this void's trepidation

where are you? knowing for certain
this isn't the end of life
but (merely) love

Perfect fit

looking back
we left more
than just debris

no promises
but opportunities
to build a pellucid ruin

far from scavengers
hidden or semi truths
that will only break windows

shards of tiles
we wanted to remember
witnesses to our destruction
lie waiting for another view

to be picked
and re-assigned,
fit and paste

this mosaic
I could never see
semblance of our vibrant past
was always, somehow, a part
of our potential future

Wits' end

those hours spent in indecision
turned into months of waiting
for spring that never came

every single sign of growth
just anticipation?

one day
a lone encounter
might ground us again

watchful moments;
relentless attempts to sow
what could settle inside our heads

careful sprigs of expectation
for answers
we weren't already fed

but ironically,
you only wanted soil
to lay under,
deny all and forget

you never needed to see my reflection

rain falls in silence

still showering you your questions instead

To affirm

all these even spaces
in between
of where once
were you and me

all these precious traces
of us
we wipe convincingly
fingerprints free

every little breath
we draw in inspiration
each tender sigh and ragged cry
are made into an idiosyncrasy

of compulsive even spaces
between affirmation and deniability

one last trial
this mourning
for crushed expired moments
we scrutinize to file, orderly
under uncontrollable possibility

(un)bound

its timeless rain, complementing grieve
while unwelcome motions deceive
nothing worse to believe
than not growing

wipe away that saline tear
pretend there's no wisdom found in what you fear
and seal the vault that makes it clear
there's so much room in knowing

let every restless touch burn
and unbound fissures not discern
what you never wanted me to learn
but were always close to blowing

why fight, not feel
to deny, is not heal
these keen shards from real
I never believed you'd dissolve by showing

I miss this still

laid down on the ground
soft brown soil, we lie complaisantly
unwound
above, a million thoughts look down
my ally
oh mother wind
our dreams, they can still fly

and counting stars
we placed
I can hear you say
without a sound
make a wish
when I come falling down

well, here's to you, I miss
my favourite wish
that we are still up there
instead of
on this barren ground

Imposition

... we can not claim
... we have options

situations dictate
like private prompters
how we behave
and what to say

choices
not nearly close enough
to touch

you and I

have decisions
we don't want to make

propositions
not a part
of this impossible intake

so we simply
break
slowly but clearly

past and present
become our future
far away
and further apart

in shards of what could be
we fall
deep enough to feel
this oppression of
impossible pain

I spy

as I silently watch,
extricated,

all those embroiling hands
slowly
strangle one another

I wonder:

which is the finger
that sugared the pie